


i forgot my sleeping bag

by xxpaynoxx



Series: My Bellarke Drabbles [6]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, and bellamy being a huge fucking mythology nerd, and some making out, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 17:53:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4109770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxpaynoxx/pseuds/xxpaynoxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“we have to go camping together and share a sleeping bag even though we’re complete strangers” au</p>
            </blockquote>





	i forgot my sleeping bag

**Author's Note:**

> basically, i'm bellarke trash and i have this weird thing for history!Bellamy and Clarke being an adorable little shit and them making out and this kinda formed from that so here you go.
> 
> lemme know if there are any spelling mistakes!!

Bellamy wanted to punch Octavia in the face.

“O, can I _please_ just stay here? I don’t want to third-wheel your camping trip with Lincoln,” he groaned, and Octavia smirked, shoving a towel into her suitcase. “Oh, but you won’t be alone, because I’m bringing Clarke, too,” she said indignantly.

Bellamy blinked. Octavia must have been talking about her new college roommate, who was a pre-med student and was, apparently, according to Octavia, “burdened with glorious purpose”. Bellamy had never formally met her, but he guessed Clarke didn’t know he was coming from Octavia’s smirk.

“Fine. I’ll go pack,” he muttered, stomping up to his room and trying to block out the excited squeals eliciting from his sister’s mouth.

\---

Lincoln had picked them up at 5:00 on the dot, and they drove to Clarke’s house in silence. Bellamy was staring out the window, moody that he had been kicked to the backseat in favor of Octavia sitting shotgun and handling the radio.

They pulled up to a small blue house with yellow windows, and a girl, who must have been Clarke, was trying to tug her things out of the door and down the cement stairs while a slightly older woman with long blonde hair helped her.

She was _beautiful_.

Bellamy couldn’t stop staring at her as Octavia and Lincoln jumped out, and he moved as if he was stuck in molasses. She had wavy shoulder-length blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and a wide, apologetic smile plastered on her face as she gave Octavia a hug, and then Lincoln.

Bellamy stood at the car, resting back on the closed door and watched Clarke and his sister exchange excited comments about the trip, and Octavia waved back at the woman who had helped Clarke, who must have been her mother.

That’s when Clarke bumped into him with a small squeak, and his hands went to her waist to steady her.

Bellamy looked down and smirked, since that was the best he could do when his insides felt like they’d been tied in knots. “I’m Octavia’s older brother, Bellamy,” he said, and Clarke nodded, her lips forming a small ‘o’ shape and her blue eyes still wide in surprise. Octavia walked over and practically punched Bellamy’s shoulder, causing him to wince and let go of Clarke’s hips (which he completely forgot he was still holding on to).

Everyone piled into the car, and Bellamy resumed his scroll through Twitter, sighing to himself as Octavia cranked the radio up and tried to sing along to it. Clarke had pulled out a book and started reading, while Lincoln’s eyes tried to stay on the road instead of his rambunctious girlfriend.

This was going to be a long ride.

\---

By the time they arrived at the campsite, the sun was just setting, the sky ablaze with pretty oranges and pinks. Octavia took a picture of it and then forced Bellamy into taking a picture of her and Lincoln underneath it. Clarke chuckled at that, and Bellamy rolled his eyes as he took it.

Then came the setting up of the tents, which was a whole other adventure since Octavia had thrown away the directions. Lincoln had reprimanded her about it, and while the “lovely couple” were arguing, Bellamy and Clarke set up their tent.

Bellamy’s stomach felt warm as he thought about how he was sharing a tent with Clarke. Jesus, he’d only just met her and he was getting a hard-on for her? He smacked himself in the face inwardly and repeatedly as Clarke mumbled out the directions to herself from her phone. Finally, the tent was erected, and Clarke smirked over at Octavia, who had somehow managed to get herself stuck in the tent cloth.

“I’ll go get the sleeping bags,” she said, making her way over to the car.

Bellamy absolutely did _not_ watch her ass in her tiny shorts as she bent over to grab the equipment.

\---

Finally, Octavia and Lincoln’s tent was put up, and the four of them settled down around the fire for some s’mores. Octavia kept smushing her marshmallow in Lincoln’s face, and Clarke’s kept getting dropped into the fire for some reason. Bellamy let her have his.

After a while of sitting around the fire, Octavia sat up from where she was cuddled in Lincoln’s shoulder. “So, Bellamy, have I told you about Clarke?” she asked. Bellamy leaned back in his fold-up chair, putting his hands behind his head. “Well, you’ve told me she’s burdened with glorious purpose,” he said, and Clarke let out a squeak.

“Octavia!” she said in a high-pitched voice, stressing the end syllable of her name. The girl shrugged, her eyebrows raised in mock surprise. “You are! You’re like, the Ben Carson of the pre-med program,” she said, and Bellamy raised his eyebrows. “Are you?” he asked, and Clarke blushed.

She fucking _blushed_ at him.

“Well, I mean, I guess. I wanted to major in studio art, but my mom hates the fact that I could get holed up in a shitty New York apartment down near Queens or something,” she said, and Lincoln was the one that laughed at her comment. Bellamy leaned forward again, his interest increasing.

“Really?” he asked, and Clarke nodded. The group fell back into silence, and Octavia yawned. “I think we should all go to bed,” she mumbled, burrowing her face into Lincoln’s shoulder. Clarke swallowed the rest of the s’more she had in her mouth and stood up, resting her branch next to the fire. “I think we should hit the sack, too,” she whispered as Lincoln scooped Octavia up in her arms and ducked into their tent.

Bellamy stood up, stretching his arms up and yawning as Clarke poked her head into the tent. She withdrew her face, her eyes wide with worry. “What? Is there something in there?” Bellamy joked, winking. She blushed again (and God, her blushing was going to _ruin_ him) and shook her head. “No, it’s just...I forgot my sleeping bag,” she mumbled, looking down at the ground.

Bellamy shrugged. “Mine’s massive. We can share,” he said, and Clarke looked up at him with an unreadable expression. “Okay,” she said after a few moments of silence, and they both ducked into the tent. Bellamy took off his shirt and his pants as Clarke walked out of the tent with her things.

And yes, Bellamy may have sneaked a look at her silhouette and went a deep red when she took off her shirt.

Clarke came back in and Bellamy was already in the sleeping bag. He opened the flap for her, and she snuggled right in, zipping it up and curling up as far away from him as possible (probably to avoid the awkwardness) and mumbled a short “goodnight”.

Bellamy returned it, and laid on his back, staring up at the tent ceiling. He could smell her perfume that she must have put on before the camping trip, which was probably super expensive since he couldn’t stop smelling it.

“Hey, Clarke?” he asked. He got a groan in response, and took that as a yes. “I can’t sleep,” he whispered, propping his head up with his hand. She rolled over, her hair messy from taking it out of the braid it was in earlier, and squinted at him. “Fine, what do you want to talk about? Is Octavia’s big brother afraid of the woods?” she said, spreading out on her stomach and wrapping her arms around her pillow.

Bellamy chuckled. “No way. If I were, I wouldn’t have come,” he said, and Clarke smiled. “Do you go to Octavia’s college?” she asked, and he nodded. “I’m currently majoring in history.”

“That’s pretty cool.”

  
“Yeah.”

“Can you tell me about Greek mythology?”

Bellamy stared at her in confusion. “Uh, what? Why?” he asked, Clarke shrugged. “Not sure. It sounds like something you’d be good at explaining,” she said, and Bellamy rolled onto his back. “Well, I mean, I know the _history_ behind Rome and Greece, but not really mythology,” he began to say, and Clarke huffed.

“Bellamy Blake, I _highly_ doubt that Octavia was wrong when she said you could write an entire Mount Olympus family tree by hand from memory.”

Bellamy went bright red, and the tips of his ears stung. “She said that?” he whispered, and Clarke nodding, stifling a giggle through biting her lip, which wasn’t exactly helping Bellamy’s blush or his lower region. He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face.

“Well, I could tell you about Artemis,” he began, and Clarke scooted closer, her perfume invading his nose. “Please. I actually really liked Artemis,” she said, and Bellamy smiled before beginning.

He told her about how Artemis was born, and the gifts that Zeus had given her when she was little, and about her and Orion. He could tell that Clarke was holding on to every word he spoke, since her eyes never left his face.

When he was done, he leaned over to tell Clarke goodnight, and found her to be almost nose-to-nose with him. His eyes went wide, but neither of them backed away. They searched the other’s eyes for a clue of what to do next, and Bellamy didn’t know if it was her perfume or the fact that it was almost 4am and he was practically delusional with fatigue, but his lips ended up on Clarke’s.

And they were kissing.

Clarke happened to be a fantastic kisser. Her hands got caught in the curls of his hair, and every movement was slow and passionate and nothing like what Bellamy had ever felt before. His hands dropped down to her waist and brought her closer to him, so that their bodies were flush with each other His tongue darted across her bottom lip, and she let him in with a moan.

The skin-to-skin contact set fire to Bellamy’s blood, and when the two broke away with their chests heaving at the intake of oxygen, he smiled, wonderstruck, his hair probably looking like a cow licked through it. Clarke blushed again, looking down at her hands. Bellamy took them in his own, and _holy shit her hands were small_.

“How long have you been waiting to do that?” he whispered, and Clarke bit her lip, which happened to be a dark red from the makeout session they just had. “Probably since Octavia pointed you out in the library at the beginning of first semester,” she said quietly, and Bellamy smirked. “Took you that long, Griffin?” he said, and was rewarded with a punch to the shoulder.

Bellamy almost went in for another kiss when he heard a snap outside their tent and giggling, followed by a girl’s voice cursing and footsteps getting further away from their tent. Clarke hid her face in his shoulder, her warm breath hitting his bare skin, and _damn_ , that turned him on.

“Don’t be so shy, _princess_ ,” he joked, and Clarke rolled her eyes, snuggling closer into his arms. He curled around her, throwing an arm around her waist, and falling asleep with the smell of Clarke’s rose-scented conditioner in his nose.

\---

Octavia didn’t stop teasing them the entire ride home, but when Clarke reached out to grab his hand and Bellamy felt her squeeze it, he was okay with it.


End file.
